


Oceans of Stars

by Anonymous



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Drunk Katsuki Yuuri, Fame, Feel-good, Fluff, Happy, M/M, Space Husbands, Wish Fulfillment, yoi fic fridays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 12:29:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10944522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When Viktor’s famous father stars in the next instalment of Yuuri’s favourite film, he gets them tickets to the premiere. Little does he think that he’ll be paving the way for Yuuri to become an ascended fanboy and the happiest Oceans of Stars fan alive. For YOI Fic Fridays prompt "fandom".





	Oceans of Stars

Home, for now, was St Petersburg. It had taken a few months for Yuuri’s things to slowly blur with Viktor’s things — for their books to get jumbled, for their clothes to start migrating into the same pile on a chair in the bedroom, for things to feel comfortable and homely, but it had happened, in the way that these things do. 

Yuuri loved it; loved that they’d settled into an easy harmony. Which wasn’t to say that they weren’t still playing the game of surprising one another — the surprises were part of the fabric of their lives. This particular surprise started off easily enough — Yuuri was snuggled in on the sofa as Viktor approached, sitting opposite him with that smile that meant “I-have-something-for-you”. Yuuri smiled back. 

“Close your eyes,” said Viktor, conspiratorially. “And hold out your hands.” 

Yuuri did it, because Viktor could be trusted to put all manner of things into his hands if Yuuri played along; sometimes silly, sometimes sexy, sometimes both. This time, Viktor handed him something glossy and papery, and Yuuri opened his eyes with a frown, taking in the brightly printed tickets in his hands. They were in Russian, but not hard to parse, especially because there was a very, very familiar logo on them. Yuuri’s heart just about stopped. No way. No _way_. 

“Oceans of Stars,” said Yuuri, quietly, barely daring to say it. “We have tickets to the Russian premiere of the new Oceans of Stars movie.” 

“Yes,” said Viktor, happily. “My papa said he wanted us to come see him, because they’re flying him home for it, and he made a fuss about the premiere being here and not Moscow, and got us tickets to the premiere because _someone_ might have told him that you adore the Oceans of Stars movies.” 

“You… what?” asked Yuuri. “You did that?” His stomach clenched, half in delighted excitement, half in terror of making a fool of himself by gushing at people on the red carpet. 

“Yuuuuri,” said Viktor, taking his face in both hands.

“Yes, but your papa is going to be Rex Goodluck’s _father_ ,” said Yuuri. “Neo Goodluck being alive is only just the most extraordinary twist, and it’s going to be iconic and—“ Yuuri pulled a face. Viktor kissed him. “No, listen, it’s amazing.” 

“I believe you,” said Viktor, the amusement in his voice almost tangible.

“We have to watch all of them,” said Yuuri. “Before we go. We have to watch all of them. And the trailers… there’s three teasers and a full length one, and _Viktor_ …” 

“Ah, Yuuri,” said Viktor, putting an exaggerated hand to his brow. “This was a terrible idea…you’ll replace all your posters of me with ones of my papa…” 

Yuuri pounced on him, and it was only later that he realised that he wasn’t embarrassed any more, just looking forward to it terribly, terribly much. He got on the internet after dinner, and re-watched all of the trailers, and downloaded the rest of the films. Now any anxiety took a back seat to joy; Yuuri, plain old ordinary Yuuri, had a ticket to the Russian premiere from Neo Goodluck himself. All right, Aleksandr Nikiforov, but it was almost the same thing. 

Aleksandr Nikiforov. Viktor’s _father_.

Yuuri knew that Viktor loved his papa dearly; when Viktor was young, his parents had stayed in Russia and Aleksandr only flown out for filming commitments, but once Viktor’s mother had passed away, neither her son nor her husband had found themselves able to stay in the house they’d shared. He’d known the bare facts of it from Wikipedia, and countless profile articles, but Viktor gave him the emotion of the story one evening, the two of them cuddled on the couch, Yuuri stroking his fingers through Viktor’s hair as his love told him about going to board with Yakov, and throwing himself into his skating because it connected him to his mother, a French ice-dancer who had been the one to encourage baby Vitya onto the ice for the first time. 

Aleksandr had a house in Russia, but he lived on location or in Hollywood most of the year. He hadn’t seen Viktor since before Viktor flew out to Hasetsu — he and Viktor skyped a lot, and that one enormous bouquet of blue roses at Barcelona was sent from Aleksandr, but he and Yuuri hadn’t met in person. And Yuuri had been a bit shy when he was dragged into the video chat, and so he wasn’t sure what the man thought of him. 

“All right,” said Viktor, practically bouncing, bringing Yuuri out of his own head and into the real world, where Viktor had made a little nest on the couch and was waiting impatiently for Yuuri to come and join him in it. “Let’s watch your movies.” 

“We’re going to have to watch them every night until the premiere,” Yuuri cautioned. 

“Mmm,” said Viktor, latching onto Yuuri as soon as Yuuri got within range, coaxing him into the nest of blankets. “Sounds good.” Yuuri snuggled into Viktor’s embrace. A week of cuddling on the couch each evening watching the complete Oceans of Stars saga? Heaven. 

As the week progressed and people found out about their Oceans marathon, they started finding excuses to show up. First it was Mila, who was almost as excited about the new movie as Yuuri was; then Yurio; then even Georgi showed up for the last three, which he claimed were _the best_ of the whole bunch. Which then started an argument about the expanded universe that only Mila and Yuuri really cared about, which only ended when Yurio told them that the prequel from the late 90s was the best one, and that was so resoundingly wrong that even Viktor wound up throwing popcorn (and when had they bought popcorn, Yuuri wondered) at Yurio to get him to take it back. 

Sometimes, Yuuri wondered if Viktor really loved the films as much as Yuuri did. Like when he was halfway through the fifth film, and he still couldn’t tell the difference between Commander Kacen and Lieutenant Mara. Maybe he had face-blindness? Viktor did half-choreograph something to the iconic — _iconic_ — theme of the Starfighters, and he told Yuuri that if Viktor ever finished it, it might be Yuuri’s gala piece for Worlds. So Yuuri could forgive having to explain the difference between Freedom Flight Squadron and Alpha Flight Squadron, and just how important Rex and Mia Goodluck were to the galaxy, and he could open his home without nerves or shyness to rink mates who’d somehow become friends, because he knew that Viktor was, again, meeting him where he was. 

_________________

 

Viktor did Yuuri’s hair for the premiere, and even smoothed a little light foundation onto his cheeks and did something to his eyes, for _the photos, Yuuri, they’ll want our photo, and besides, I want a good photo of the two of us with Papa_. They were picked up by a limousine, and Yuuri found himself nervously blurting out theories to Viktor, who probably had no idea what Yuuri was talking about. 

“…and then, there was an easter egg in one of the games about the nanotech drones which could be used to resurrect someone,” said Yuuri, unable to stop. “But I was thinking it would be easier if he were alive, but in hiding. Kind of a douche move, but if he saw the explosion that allegedly killed him, and thought Rex had been caught up in it, then…” 

He was still thinking out loud when the car stopped, Viktor grabbed him, and they were assailed by the press. There was a man in a navy suit standing on the red carpet, seemingly waiting for them, the perfect cut of his clothing emphasising the long, lean lines of his body. He had familiar silver hair, and bright blue eyes. 

“H-hello,” said Yuuri. 

“Yuuri!” said Aleksandr, with what looked like delight. Yuuri tried to tamp down the thought that the man was an actor — his profession was an actor, he could pretend to like Yuuri even if he thought Yuuri was awful. “Oh, look at you. How wonderful to finally meet you in person; he’s told me so much about you.” 

“I— it’s good to meet you too, sir,” said Yuuri, bowing a little out of sheer terror, and then feeling stupid when more cameras went off, and then Viktor had an arm around him and was kissing his temple. 

“Isn’t he perfect?” asked Viktor, before launching himself into his father’s arms. The elder Nikiforov hugged him tightly, actually lifting him from the ground and swinging him in a circle, to the coos and flashbulbs of the waiting press. 

“You look so well,” said Aleksandr, once they’d finished dramatically reuniting. He smiled fondly at his son, putting a hand to Viktor’s cheek. “You must be happy.” 

“I’m so happy,” said Viktor, reaching out and catching Yuuri’s hand. 

Their minders discreetly gave them the hurry-up, and Yuuri somehow found himself with Viktor’s arm around his waist, walking with two-time Oscar winner Aleksandr Nikiforov and Viktor, the love of Yuuri’s life, and trying terribly hard not to combust. But one amazing thing that was keeping him on the red carpet, aside from Viktor’s strong embrace; the thought that out of all the people in the world, he was going to get to see Oceans of Stars before the official release date. Viktor and his father were speaking in rapid, affectionate-sounding Russian that didn’t cease even when they were ushered to their seats, not until Viktor raised the armrest so that he and Yuuri could cuddle. 

And then the lights went down, and the opening crawl began, and Yuuri was transported to another galaxy. 

The film was everything Yuuri had hoped for, and more. He leaned forward during the battles, laughed at the sassy android, squeaked when it looked like everyone was in danger, and sobbed his heart out when it was revealed that Neo Goodluck had been trapped in a pocket dimension, only wanting to see his family again, and then there was a fresh flood of tears when he nobly sacrificed himself for the good of said family. Yuuri was first on his feet when the film ended, clapping, still a bit damp, and Viktor stood beside him, kissing the tears off and whispering happy nothings into Yuuri’s ear. 

Yuuri took the opportunity to update Twitter and Snapchat once the lights went up, and then he was unceremoniously hustled into another room, VIPs only, where people milled about tables and drank champagne and monopolised the stars of what had been a really excellent sci-fi film. Now that Yuuri had seen the movie, and he was prepared to gush about it, and there was free champagne, he was having a lovely time. Viktor, who was supposed to be keeping an eye on him, was also drinking, and when the crew announced that there’d be a mock light-wand fight competition, both of them perked up.

“I’ll do it!” Yuuri was on his feet before anyone else in the room. “So will Vitya!” 

Viktor, for his part, nodded enthusiastically. 

“You’d better get in there, Sasha!” called out a man that Yuuri didn’t know, and he realised with a start it was Aleksandr being volunteered by one of his castmates, and suddenly there were more people getting involved, and Yuuri managed another glass of champagne while they lined up the competitors and set them against each other. Someone had roped in the actor playing Rex, and Yuuri practically danced around him; when it was Vitya’s turn, he was up against his papa, and used his jumping and twirling prowess to dart away, finishing laughing in Aleksandr’s arms after forcing him to yield.

They both watched the quarter finals with the warm glow of competition burning between them; the director kept making nyooom-nyoom noises with his mouth as he swung his wand against Viktor, losing admirably, and the beautiful actress who was Mia’s on-screen daughter did a _flip_ , of all things, besting the journalist who was covering the party for some big magazine, and then Yuuri had to battle her, unable to let his competitive spirit rest as he reacted to her, years of light-wand battles with Mari paying off as he choreographed on the fly. 

Eventually, it was Yuuri vs Viktor. 

“If I win, I want you to help me finish that Starfighters routine,” said Yuuri, readying his light-wand. “And skate it with me.” 

“Go Yuuri!!” Taylor, the woman who’d flipped and then nearly knocked Yuuri out of the race. “Kick his butt!” 

“Davai, Vitya!” That was Aleksandr. 

“If I win, then you’re making katsudon tomorrow night,” said Viktor. “And I’m going to eat it _all_.” 

Yuuri felt sheer joy bubble up in his chest. In the end, it wasn’t a fair fight — Yuuri had been play-fighting with a light-wand since before he even knew skating existed, and though he and Viktor were attuned to each other, Yuuri’s greater familiarity with the toy weapon won the day. 

“Yield,” said Yuuri, once he had the plastic, glowing wand at Viktor’s throat, Viktor’s back to Yuuri’s chest.

“I yield!” Viktor cried, and Yuuri took the opportunity to kiss him soundly in victory. The crowd cheered, and Yuuri found himself swept off to join Taylor and Jack and Tomas, the actors who were about Yuuri’s own age, as Viktor huddled with his father in intense drunken conversation. 

“That was amazing!” said Jack Talbot, who Yuuri was pretty sure had been in about five of the last ten Hollywood films that Yuuri had seen. “Usually they do all these lame games to amuse the corporates and the media, but no-one’s ever gotten so into it as that.” 

“You were the best as Oliver,” said Yuuri, his filter totally gone. He grabbed another glass of champagne. “I mean, I was so worried about who they’d get, and they got you, and you were perfect.”

“It is such a shame that you’re with baby-Aleksandr,” said Taylor, wistfully. “As Jack’s wing-woman, I can say that…” 

“Viktor’s my boyfriend,” said Yuuri, happily. “He’s my favourite.” He looked at Taylor from under his eyelashes. “Though that was an epic flip.” 

“Competition two!” said someone, and Jack put his head on the table. 

“Nooooo, kill me,” he said. “This is that damn trivia thing. It’d be all right if the questions stayed the same, but…” 

“Yuuuuuri,” sang a voice from across the room. 

“Oh my, Aleksandr and son are coming this way,” said Tomas Liu, looking up from where he was shredding a cardboard starfighter, which had probably been part of the table decorations. 

“We need a fourth for the trivia,” said Viktor. Taylor put both arms around Yuuri. 

“He’s ours,” she said. 

“Vitya,” said Yuuri, knowing he probably looked like a drunk piglet but not caring. “I’m going to beat you at this one, too.” 

“So cruel!” said Viktor, affecting a dramatic expression. “I’m going to find the director, and then we’ll win.” 

“You’re still choreographing that routine for me!” said Yuuri, as behind Viktor, Aleksandr was clearly having difficulty not collapsing into gales of laughter, steering Viktor off as paper was handed out and teams decided upon. 

“This is the best one of these we’ve done in a long time,” said Tomas, as the questions were read out. 

“Which planet houses the Guardians of Forever?”

“Hormu!” chirped Yuuri, and Taylor slapped a hand over his mouth. 

“Inside voice!” 

“What relationship does Porel Jovan have to the Goodluck family?” 

“Mia’s godmother!” whispered Yuuri. Or he thought he whispered. 

“What is Oliver’s job before he becomes Alpha leader?” 

“Flight technician class 45,” said Jack and Yuuri together. 

“Wow,” said Tomas. “You’ve had what, ten glasses of champagne?” 

“Twelve,” said Yuuri, with as much dignity as he could muster. 

“You’re my new hero.” 

“What model of starfighter was Rex’s _second_ ship. Not the first one, that’s too easy, and not the Eagle of the Winds. His second ship.” 

“It was a Yoyo-245,” said Yuuri. “Because the production designer at the time said it looked more like a yoyo than a flying saucer.” 

Tomas was furiously scribbling answers on his page, and Yuuri gave the others a beneficent smile. 

“You want to know a secret?” he said. “I _love_ Oceans of Stars.” 

Sometime later, Yuuri was back with Viktor, and they were cuddled together, and life was amazing. He blinked at Viktor’s papa, who was looking at them both with the fondest expression that Yuuri could remember seeing on anyone who wasn’t his own parents. It seemed some things were universal. 

“So,” said Aleksandr. “The next stop on our trip is Japan. Did you want to…?” 

“Come with you?” asked Viktor, with such a happy look Yuuri would never be able to say no. 

His father laughed. “One condition, Vitya,” he said. “This game show has asked me to come on with my team, and I want Yuuri on it. No letting my sweet young co-stars steal him this time.” 

“Me?” asked Yuuri, a little shocked. 

“You know everything about this movie,” said Aleksandr. “The point of the game show is for the cast and crew to win in Oceans of Stars trivia against a team of super-fans.” He winked. “Competitiveness is in Vitya’s and my blood. I know about this film, and everything you might want to know about Neo, but I don’t know the expanded universe.” 

Yuuri beamed. “Vitya,” he said, pawing a bit at Viktor. “Vitya.” 

“Yes, darling, yes,” said Viktor, just as drunk and touchy as Yuuri. 

“Vitya,” said Yuuri, for the third time. “We’re going to Japan!” 

______________

 

Yuuri woke the next morning on the sofa bed of an unfamiliar hotel room, snuggled up to Viktor’s chest, with a hangover that felt like death itself. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” said Aleksandr, from where he was perched on an armchair watching the television news. “How much of last night do you remember?” 

“I didn’t embarrass myself, did I?” asked Yuuri. 

“Depends on what you mean by embarrass,” said Aleksandr, but he seemed to take pity on Yuuri. “No, Yuuri, you were wonderful. You and Vitya livened that whole thing up…the youngsters have been begging me to bring you along on the press junket tour, just to come to the afterparties.” 

“I won the light-wand battle,” said Yuuri, remembering that much.

“And you won the trivia for your team, and then you were asleep for the round of impressions after that, which might be a good thing for your dignity,” said Aleksandr, his eyes shining. “They do these things at the big parties, try to make the stars interact with the people. It’s usually enforced fun. Last night was real fun.” He nodded. “I told JL you agreed to come with us to Japan, and he’s so excited.” 

“Mmmmm.” That was Viktor, who was stirring. “How did we end up here?” 

“Your papa loves you and wanted to make sure you didn’t set your flat on fire when you were so drunk.” 

Viktor sat straight upright. “Makkachin!!” he said, and that was it for a leisurely morning as they hurried home to Makka, who was dozing on the couch, oblivious to being left for the night but delighted to see them. They took an early, hung-over walk, Yuuri barely daring to poke at the bubble of happiness he found himself in, despite the hangover and the vague sense that maybe the people of Oceans of Stars wouldn’t like sober Yuuri as much as they liked him drunk. 

It didn’t matter. He’d agreed, and that was it. It turned out that the name Aleksandr Nikiforov opened doors at hotels and restaurants, got flights sorted out in double-quick time, and even held enough sway with Yakov to give them an extended weekend off. It meant that Yuuri would stay on in Japan after the premiere, and prepare for Nationals, and Viktor would return home and do the same; this made Viktor mope a little, but it was a fair enough deal, and Yuuri’s connections through the JSF meant they’d get rink time in Tokyo. Minami had practically burst into song when he’d discovered that Yuuri and Viktor were going to join his rink for a day or two. 

Yuuri wasn’t as shy as all that when it came to the game show. They’d changed some of the physical challenges when they’d discovered he’d be a ring-in on the cast team — he had to do some skating as part of the challenge. Which he didn’t mind, because poor Jack had to eat something so hot that his tongue practically blistered, and Taylor had to get into a zorb and fight Tomas in his own giant inflatable ball. Yuuri thought he’d got the better end of the deal. And then he got to walk the red carpet with Viktor again, and this time he wasn’t so worried about whether the film would be prequel-level-awful, and so he got to bask in saying to the world that Viktor was his, they were in love, _and_ Yuuri had been invited along by the cast of the film. 

It was on the final day before Yuuri would catch the train to Hasetsu and the press tour would move on to China when JL Coolidge, the director of the whole series, approached Yuuri. It was the first time Yuuri had spoken with him sober, and Yuuri had to practically sit on his hands to stop them shaking. 

“That light-wand fight you did in St Petersburg,” said the director. “Can you replicate it?” 

Yuuri frowned. “I think so,” he said. “I used to play-fight light-wands with my sister all the time.” 

JL laughed. “So did most kids your age,” he said, not unkindly. “But they weren’t so…beautiful when they did it.” 

“I’m a figure skater,” said Yuuri, pride welling up in his chest from being called beautiful. “Viktor and I… we’ve skated a lot together.” 

“So what you’re saying is you could do that on _ice_?” 

“Yes,” said Yuuri. “In some ways, it would be easier.”

“All right,” said JL. “Can you and… Viktor?… sometime…have a battle on ice and film it for me? My assistant will give you my email.” 

“I — yes!” said Yuuri, his heart in his throat. “Thank you!!” 

______________

 

And that was it for his warmup time, and rehearsal time. He was consumed by the idea of choreographing a light-wand fight on ice, and he drew Viktor into it, and somehow the choreography Viktor had already done morphed into something huge and sweeping and delightful. It was Viktor’s idea to do it for the gala at Worlds, and when Yuuri got into the group chat between himself, Taylor, Tomas and Jack, they all said they’d be livestreaming it if they had the guts to pull it off. 

And how had he gotten into a group chat with them? He didn’t really know, but Drunk Yuuri seemed to be able to make all of Sober Yuuri’s wildest dreams come true. 

Yuuri had learned that Aleksandr had a huge amount of star power; that was how he got the Russian premiere in St Petersburg, not Moscow. Still, he wasn’t prepared for the real prop light-wands to arrive by courier, on loan from the actual set of the second film. Aleksandr wasn’t even _in it_ ; he’d just called JL, apparently, said that his son wanted to borrow them, and that was that. 

They were headliners in the gala — weeks before either had won a single medal, hundreds of people had bought tickets to see Vitya and Yuuri skate together. Yuuri’s small but determined cheer squad had substantially expanded over the past year, and he was gratified to hear a massive whoop when he took the ice for his first skate in the gala. He couldn’t really see the audience well without his glasses, but he could hear them, and he’d see Vitya soon, as they met. It was their Thing, loved-up pairs gala skates, and it sold huge numbers of tickets, so the ISU was willing to let them continue pushing the limits of decorum. This was Vitya’s official skate, and he’d choreographed something lovey and soppy, something where he could steal kisses from Yuuri on the ice, something the fans adored. 

He twirled into Viktor’s arms, and they kissed — Viktor was the steadfast tin soldier, in love with the ballerina (or ballerin _o_ , as the case may be), but instead of being rejected, they danced together, in love, and melted into each other without fear or pain. Yuuri wanted Viktor to choreograph something like this as their wedding dance; he heard another cheer as Viktor lifted him, supporting him with the strength of his body. 

They tumbled breathlessly into the dressing rooms to change for their second piece — Yuuri’s official presentation. This time, it was the guardian and the challenger — Yuuri dressed in the robes of a Guardian of Forever, Viktor in the dark garb of a fallen flight captain, someone who wanted to join the Guardians, but had to prove himself. Hormu had been the logical place to set anything on ice; it was, after all, an ice planet. Not that Yuuri really approved of planets with a single biome, but it was Oceans of Stars, so he was willing to forgive almost anything. 

When Yuuri took the ice this time, the roar of the crowd was deafening. Something was going on, he realised, but there was little he could do about it. 

“I want to be a Guardian,” said Rex Goodluck’s voice, over the music. “I want to help people.” 

“Do you know how to use that weapon?” asked Guardian Go’ann. 

“I do. I mean, I think I do.” Viktor steadied himself. “Why don’t I show you?” 

Despite cutting in the dialogue, they hadn’t just replayed the cinematic battle between Rex and the Guardian. They were just using it to set the scene, and this was — this was the best fun Yuuri had had in ages, because neither he nor Viktor had been satisfied with simple but flashy. They’d decided to really push it; the Guardians of Forever were meant to be preternaturally athletic, and they used the ice to practically float as they skated around each other, first fighting and then dancing as Yuuri’s character accepted that Viktor’s character might be worth the time and the effort. It still involved some impressive moves — Yuuri sliding quicksilver under Viktor as he jumped, something that Yakov had told them would end in tears (and that had ended in tears several times in rehearsal, but never let it be said that Yuuri and Vitya weren’t stubborn). The gasp and cheer from the crowd was worth it; so was the applause whenever Yuuri showed off one of his newer jumps, and when they pressed themselves back-to-back, and fought an imaginary enemy. 

Yuuri was exhausted after they finished, and he leaned close to Viktor, who had an arm around his waist, both of their chests heaving. 

“Yuuri,” said Viktor, into his hair, and Yuuri read it for the declaration of affection that it was. 

“I love you too,” said Yuuri, too quiet for anyone else to hear over what was frankly a _roar_ from the crowd. Viktor kissed his temple. “Now tell me what’s going on.” 

_________________

 

It was only later when Yuuri got the whole story, half from Viktor, half from Taylor, and another half from Instagram, because the whole thing was so extra that there was no point trying to contain it into only two halves. Aleksandr had _lied_ about Neo not being in the next film, and Yuuri would be annoyed, only they’d all been filming on some remote Scottish island, and JL had given them the weekend off to come to the continent and attend the gala skate at Worlds, and the audience at said gala had _lost their shit_ when half the cast of Oceans of Stars walked in, and even better, when Yuuri and Viktor did an Oceans of Stars skate, and apparently between them all they’d broken the internet. 

When Yuuri cornered Aleksandr later about apparently deciding to go out on an enormous limb for Yuuri’s fanboy gala skate, he simply shrugged and said, “You make Vitya happy, and he’s been too long sad.” And then, smiling to himself, added: “You know that loving to surprise people is a family trait, yes?” 

“I’m getting that impression,” said Yuuri, soft. “I — I know he was unhappy. Before. We were both unhappy. But things are better now.” 

“You’re happy together,” said Aleksandr. “That’s all any papa wants for his son.” He paused, and sighed. “It’s a shame I have to go back to the US for this television show. I suppose I could say no, but there’s this little voice in me that keeps me from slowing down. I think you understand that; you understand that thing that drives people like us.” 

“I — I’m honoured that you think that, sir,” said Yuuri, realising belatedly that he’d brought his ring to his lips, a little unconscious gesture of connectedness. 

Aleksander smiled. “You know, you should really call me Sasha, if you’re going to be family.” 

Yuuri felt himself go pink with pleased embarrassment. “All right,” he said. “Sasha.” 

 

_______________

 

The phone call from JL Coolidge came not long after the Hormu skate went out onto YouTube. 

“You don’t do things by halves, do you? Stealing half my cast and giving the publicity people a heart attack.” 

“I…I suppose not,” said Yuuri, still a little star-struck when talking to the man. 

“You have an off-season, don’t you?” Coolidge asked, and then before Yuuri could reply, he said something that nearly gave Yuuri a cardiac arrest. “Yuuri Katsuki, I have a job for you.” 

_________________

 

Being one of the Guardians of Hormu was a bit less glamorous than Yuuri had thought it would be, because he and Vitya were also in charge of herding a group of extras who were mainly picked for their looks rather than their ability to stay upright on ice skates. He was also set to be the skate double for Jack in the Hormu scenes, because it transpired that although his character, Oliver, was meant to be graceful, Jack on Ice was mostly Jack on his arse. Which was all right for most of it, because the story fitted — Guardian Locke and Guardian Cycar found Oliver freezing to death where his shuttle had ploughed into the side of the mountain that housed the temple to Forever. Oliver was trying to use the Eternal Gates to reverse Neo Goodluck’s death, now that everyone knew that Hormu hadn’t actually been destroyed in the last movie; only problem was, the war machine of the Galactic Junta was going to try to use the Gates to bring back their dead leader, too. 

Where it fell apart was the battle on the face of Hormu, where the Guardians were supposed to fight on the ice, and Oliver along with them. Yuuri couldn’t have been more in love with Viktor, because Viktor, world’s best skater, kept picking Jack up and dusting him off, helping him learn to balance, keeping his patience, never getting frustrated. He was _Viktor_ , so he did say the odd little cutting thing about wondering how Jack managed to walk on normal ground with such a poor sense of balance, but he was also kind and gentle in his actions. 

It took all day to get an even remotely acceptable take. Yuuri had bruises on his bruises, mostly from extras careening into him and wiping him out. 

“All right, we’ll go again,” said JL, as somewhere behind Yuuri, an extra complained about being exhausted. 

“Guardians!” cried Yuuri, leading the charge across the rink, wondering what the green sheeting around them would get turned into once the effects were added. Viktor quickly caught up to him, and they followed the choreography as set, dodging blaster bolts that would be added in, fighting other skaters in morph suits that would become aliens once the graphics team had worked on them. It was going brilliantly until Yuuri was baulked by one of the less experienced skaters, and he stumbled, and nearly fell, but then there was Viktor, steadying him, leaning in for a brief kiss that would probably ruin the take, and then skating away to pick up where he’d left off. Jack slid down the middle of the group, and the cameras focussed on him, and on Yuuri as his de-facto bodyguard, and all of them worked until they finally got the blessed notes that they were done for the day. 

Yuuri was surprised not long after when he and Viktor were called up for more shooting — in the monastery set that had been erected in the backlot, not on the rink. 

“We’ve decided to shoot some of Oliver being taken care of by the Guardians,” said JL. “It was in the original script, but we took it out for timing. I want the footage so I can make an informed decision; I don’t think the battle will work the way we wanted it to, so I want something else to play around with.” Yuuri supposed when your films made roughly the equivalent of the GDP for a small country, you got to just film things whenever you liked. 

He’d never acted for film before. JL told Yuuri that, despite his usual startled appearance in photographs, he was a natural on film, like he was on the ice. Vitya, who had done loads of commercials and a few guest appearances, gave him some pointers, and on-set, Yuuri tucked Jack into a bed, and together he and Vitya pretended to watch over Jack as he slept. 

“Once more,” said JL. “But I want you to act like you do when you’re Yuuri and Viktor.” 

“Huh?” asked Yuuri. 

“Oh, okay,” said Viktor, and they ran the scene again, but this time when Yuuri got up from holding tea to Jack’s lips and then tucking him into bed, Viktor held out a hand to him. They threaded their fingers together. 

“Will he live?” asked Viktor. 

“Yes,” said Yuuri. “But it’s bad news for the galaxy, if the Junta come here.” 

“We’ll protect the gates,” said Viktor, lifting Yuuri’s hand to his lips. 

“We need to protect him, first,” said Yuuri. “He’s important. I can feel it in my bones.” 

“Everyone is important to someone,” said Viktor, his demeanour leaving no doubt as who was important to Viktor. “The multiverse acts on us all as it wishes.” 

“Then I hope it’s kind,” said Yuuri, turning back to watch Jack as Viktor slid an arm around his waist, pressed his lips to Yuuri’s forehead. 

“Perfect,” said JL, from somewhere Yuuri couldn’t quite see without his glasses. “All right, people. Lunch.” 

__________________

 

Yuuri didn’t see the final cut of the film for ages — the second one in the new trilogy came out around Vitya’s birthday, and then they had to wait the rest of the year for the one that they were in, although Yuuri had been surprised to see himself in the post-credits scene on number two. 

When he did, he almost didn’t recognise himself. Stumbled through the after-party and then called Mari when he got home, half-disbelieving, half-in tears. She laughed at him, and told him that if he didn’t get her a ticket to the Japanese premiere, then she’d share video of him as a baby skater onto the internet. 

He didn’t really believe she would, but he couldn’t take the chance. In their living room, Viktor half-drunkenly glommed onto him while he spoke with his sister. 

“My Yuuri,” Vitya murmured. “So lovely.” 

Yuuri let himself be cuddled. 

“And of course, you’re going to get a fanbase,” said Mari. 

“He has a fanbase,” said Vitya, because he was far too close to Yuuri’s phone. 

“Oh my god,” said Mari. “Does he really not know just how obsessive Oceans of Stars fans are?” 

Viktor really hadn’t known, Yuuri realised, within a month of the brief post-credits scene on Hormu being played in cinemas around the world. 

“Wow!” was Vitya’s general verdict whenever an influx of followers popped up in one or other of their social networking sites. “Yuuri, this thing is _really popular_!” 

Yuuri, who spent a lot of time fondly looking at Buzzfeed articles with helpful gifs of his and Viktor’s most romantic skates and vaguely objectifying comments about looking forward to seeing them in Oceans, had just nodded. And it had snowballed. 

“We’re in the film for five minutes,” said Viktor, puzzled, when the buzz started to overtake everything, even competition. People were coming to competitions dressed as Guardians. “It’s not even out yet. What if they hate us?” 

Yuuri shook his head. “Don’t even say it,” he said. “Don’t even _think_ it.” 

Buzzfeed seemed to be of the opinion that their favourite skating couple would slay, so Yuuri held onto that. He still spent the night before the premiere uncomfortably awake; as minor roles, they’d not even seen a half-finished cut of the film, though Jack had told him it was _awesome_ and that _you and Vikiforov came off well_. Not sleeping led to being annoyed at everything the next day, and then stressing out before the premiere, almost as bad as when he’d come back from Sochi, when he’d been Vitya’s student for the first, second, third time. 

This time, Viktor didn’t try to break Yuuri’s heart. Instead, he took Yuuri’s face in his hands, and squished his cheeks a bit, just to be annoying, and then did what Yuuri wanted him to do: picked out his outfit, did his hair, steered him past the paparazzi, sandwiched him between himself and Taylor, and did all the interacting for Yuuri, so that Yuuri didn’t have to worry about offending anyone or looking stupid. He could pass that responsibility on to someone else. Yuuri still had to take photos with people dressed as Guardians. He thought he’d die if the film was bad. 

Yuuri sort of wished he could turn himself inside out when he saw himself on the screen. He was used to watching video of himself on the ice, but this was… it almost wasn’t him, and then it was him, because JL had left in that little kiss Viktor had given him on the ice, and he’d gone with the take in the monastery where Viktor twined their fingers together in what now was obviously a gesture of comfort, the Guardians caring for each other, even whilst they cared for Oliver. Taylor took Yuuri’s hand and squeezed — grateful, he squeezed back. He was still a bit overwhelmed when it came to getting up and going to the afterparty; he just sat pressed up to Viktor’s side, trying to process what he’d seen. 

“Papa is so annoyed the premiere clashes with his schedule for _Throne of Glass_ ,” Vitya said, making small talk with Yuuri’s friends, all of them trying to avoid a repeat of the party games. “He keeps telling me we have to team up to beat you all at trivia, but honestly I don’t think I can tell the difference between Rex and Oliver.” 

“Yuuri?” asked Jack. “You okay?” 

Yuuri nodded. “It’s a bit much to take in,” he said. 

“I think you two are amazing,” said Taylor. “And the reviews have been positive, right?” 

“Oh yes,” said Viktor, happily, brandishing his phone. “Look, Buzzfeed thinks we’re space husbands!” 

“I need another glass of champagne,” said Yuuri, and one magically appeared from a passing waiter.

“You sure you’re okay?” asked Jack. 

“I think I’m in shock,” said Yuuri. “I — we’re actually the Guardians of Hormu.” 

 

____________________

 

The scenes, when they were cut into the final film, were, according to the _New York Times_ , a “much-needed moment of human connection in the whirlwind of action scenes.” _The Guardian_ asked “Who knew that this wasn’t just an act of bizarre nepotism; that casting Nikiforov’s figure-skating son and son-in-law would lead to two of the most memorable minor characters in this sweeping saga?” 

Yurio grumbled at both of them about not getting him or anyone else an invite to the set, but grudgingly admitted that it was an awesome part of the movie. Buzzfeed ran an article comparing Yuuri’s horrible paparazzi photos and candids on Instagram to his appearance in the film, and asked if he was actually some sort of alien for real because how could he be these two people? 

Yuuri drank it all in. Of course there were haters — there were always haters — but the haters weren’t Guardians, were they? 

“Papa wants us to have dinner with him when we’re in LA,” said Vitya, one Sunday evening, as Yuuri stretched out on the couch. “Oooh, and I have a surprise for you for when we’re there! Close your eyes and hold out your hands.” 

Yuuri obeyed, and Vitya put something in his hands; something shiny and papery. He remembered what had happened last time the surprise had been something shiny and papery. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“You’ll have to open your eyes and look,” said Vitya. 

“Vitya,” said Yuuri, eyes still closed. “I love you.”

Vitya kissed his forehead. “I know,” he replied, and Yuuri laughed so hard that he accidentally opened his eyes, looked at his surprise, and then he kissed his space husband deeply, bad movie quotes and all.


End file.
